PERSPECTIVES: THE NATURAL AND CONSTRUCTED WORLDS

"THE GEESE OVER THE CITY"

A poem by Emma LaRocque

DURING READING:

Notice the literary devices and figurative language used in this poem to help convey her message.

"The Geese Over the City" is a shape poem. A shape poem, also called a picture poem or, more formally, a calligram, is   a poem which takes the shape of its subject. Writers who produce shape poems are as interested in how words look as in how they sound. To appreciate a shape poem, it helps to put aside your usual ideas about language, and think about the poem as if it were a painting or a sculpture. Shape poems are sometimes referred to as concrete poems.

"The Geese Over the City"
by Emma LaRocque

In the city
One awakes to the sound
Of man-made mobility:
                coughing motors,
                clanging truck boxes,
                wailing sirens,
tire screeches.
There are the treadmarks on my soul.
But this morning-day
Very early –
Even before the sun
made it through the October grey –
I heard the Geese,
                the Geese,
                                the Geese ---
                                                and in my half-sleep
                                                                                I jumped up,
                                                                ready to run out and see
                                                                Their V-formation
                                                as was the tradition
                of the great northern Cree
But the sounds of some shifting gears
made me stop,
and aware that
the obstinate elm leaves,
electric wires
and too tall buildings
would not let me see,
                                let me see,
                                                let me see –
                                                                so I fell back to sleep,
                                                                                no, to reverie
                                                                                                I saw a little log-shack
                                                                                                                full of family faces
                                                                                                                                all embraced
                                                                                                                by a tangle tussle
                                                                                                of green-gold laces
                                                                                And I smelled
                                                                the racy fragrance
                                                of a widowed willow-leaf
                                etched with the earth
broken birch branch
and damp dew

ahh

Twice more
The Geese
went over the city
making me sad
that I could not see
making me happy
that I could not see
there was much Cree in me
despite
town height.